


The Hobbit That Saved Thorin Oakenshield

by OakenDurinsons



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, Everybody Lives, M/M, Overprotective Thorin, POV Thorin, Thorin-centric, Uncle Thorin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-02 07:49:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4052158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OakenDurinsons/pseuds/OakenDurinsons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin doesn't expect much of the company's new addition, Bilbo Baggins, but soon learns that he will play a huge part in his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Rough Start

Thorin wasn’t sure when it all started. It was somewhere before the hobbit’s brave actions at the Carrock, but it couldn’t have started before the incident with the trolls. It seemed that the more danger the little creature got himself into for Thorin’s sake, the more he was drawn to the burglar.

  
Admittedly, he didn’t think much of the hobbit at first. The Halfling was small and weak, but thick through the middle, obviously living a life of leisure by the state of his larders full of food and his cozy living quarters. It wasn’t until later that Thorin saw his calluses, surprised that they had a place on his delicate hands. They were quickly explained when the hobbit revealed that he was an avid gardener, fussing over his prized tomatoes at the dinner table.

  
Thoring pitied the hobbit, rushing after his guests to stop them from smashing dishes and demolishing his home. The man was astonishingly nimble, plucking plates from the air and dodging dwarves as he made himself to his kitchen to defend his cheese from Bombur. The robust dwarf really had no shame when it came to food.

  
At the time, Thorin couldn’t fathom what Gandalf saw in the creature. He was better fit to sit in his burrow reading books about dragons than stealing from one. Thorin almost felt sorry for the Halfling. The burglar was obviously overwhelmed by the dwarves’ presence, and the boisterous wizard wasn’t helping in the least. The hobbit’s green eyes were full of fear and confusion as the company spoke of perils and danger, as if he was trying to imagine the magnificence and fearsome beauty of Smaug.

  
This Halfling really was a curious creature, indeed. Thorin had never seen such hairy feet in his life, and it was rare for any being to have less body hair than a dwarf. It matched the same golden brown hair that was on the top of his head. The most unpleasing aspect of the hobbit were his pointed ears. They reminded the king of elves’ ears, the pretentious bastards that live in the forest and feed off of plants like cattle. Although, he did suppose that his ears were more rounded, closer to a dwarf’s. The Halfling did have a pleasant face, though, and he was quite tall for a hobbit, reaching up to Thorin’s shoulder.

  
The king wished to protect this Halfling, to keep him away from harm. Thorin never wished to share the darkness and mistrust of the world with others. He always tried to keep others apart from the dangers that came with being close to Thorin Oakenshield, only truly opening up to his nephews and their mother about his concerns and most guarded thoughts. Dis was always his safe-haven, his one true rock. She was unshakeable. Through the death of her husband, she became even stronger, learning how to live in a world alone and provide for her sons in his absence. Thorin wished he could show her that she was not truly alone, that he would always be there to protect her and his sister-sons.

  
Thorin tried to shoulder some of her burden, helping to raise her two sons and show them how to be proper Sons of Durin. Because of this, the king never saw a reason to marry: he had claimed his heirs, and there was no more room in his life for anyone else. He had long since lost the desire to bring another person close to him, fearing that he would hurt them as he had many others before them.

  
Although no one expected much of the Master of Bag End, Thorin saw an unlikely potential in him. He saw his willingness to prove himself and adapt, especially with the company’s arrival. Sure, the smaller man had a few fainting spells, but he was also curious about the quest, wanting to hear more of the particulars. The king was sure that he would see the quest to the end.

Yes, Thorin wanted to protect Master Baggins from harm, but it seemed the hobbit would indeed save him instead.


	2. Reminiscing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo gets Thorin to open up about the loss he has experienced, causing him to look back on the loved ones who are now missing from his life.

When Thorin went to bed that night in Bag End, he was hesitant of what was to come of his companions. Many perils laid ahead of them, and he knew that it was foolhardy to believe that the company would finish the quest intact. The hobbit had generously given the king the biggest room, and Thorin felt like it was too kind of him after the way the dwarves had imposed on his hospitality.

"I could never take your bed from you, Master Baggins," Thorin said, attempting to deny the Halfling's sacrifice. "I would be perfectly content sleeping on the floor. I've spent many nights traveling, sleeping on the unforgiving earth. One becomes accustomed to it. A few blankets would be ample for my slumber."

"Your Majesty," the hobbit replied, annunciating the title as if it was the most absurd thing he'd ever said, "I wasn't suggesting that you take my room. And if we did share the room, as you offered, I believe that the members of your company would get the wrong impression," Bilbo winked after his statement, attempting to get his point across.

After realizing what the hobbit was insinuating, Thorin blushed from ear to ear, taken aback by his comment. He soon began to inspect the frayed edge of his tunic. 

"I was referring to my parents' room. They passed away a very long time ago, and I've come to prefer the bedroom in which I spent my youth to sleeping in the room my parents shared for sixty years. Too many mournful memories, you understand," He averted his eyes, showing Thorin just how much his parent's passing had affected him.

"Indeed, I do," Thorin said, all too knowingly, "I've lost much in my life. Both to dragon fire and by blades of orcs. I understand lingering memories. Things begin to come back to you, brought forth by familiar sights and sounds, even smells, and they can haunt you for ages. I am sorry for your loss, Master Baggins," Thorin then placed his hand on the hobbit's shoulder, thinking that a hug would be inappropriate for how little they had known each other. 

"Oh, and Thorin?" the hobbit asked, looking up into Thorin's eyes for what seemed for the first time that night.

"Yes, Master Baggins?"

"Call me Bilbo."

"Bilbo," Thorin repeated, letting the name roll off his tongue like dew from a leaf. It felt good on his lips, soft but sturdy. "It seems that I should extend the same privilege to you," Thorin said, giving Bilbo a warm smile. "You can call me Thorin as well. I feel that I owe you that familiarity after the events of the night. I apologize for my company's appetite, they were never taught manners," Thorin said, turning to watch his kin finish off the rest of the feast. His heart grew fond, watching how jovial they all were. If only he could forget the danger that lay ahead of them.

"Well, if you feel like paying me back for that, the large one ate sixteen wheels of my best cheese," Bilbo replied, cracking a smile as he began to make light of the situation of his larders.

"And to think that he's actually lactose intolerant," said Thorin in jest, "Bombur has an awful habit of breaking wind strong enough to sail a small vessel when his bowels become upset,"

Bilbo began to snicker at Thorin's imagery. "Heavens help us. Goodnight, Thorin," he said with a smile before turning to walk towards his own rooms.

"Goodnight, Bilbo,"

Thorin was now getting situated in bed among the pillows and blankets. The bed was surprisingly large enough to fit the king comfortably, probably broad enough to fit two men. Thorin stripped down to his tunic and trousers, his tunic his favorite shade of dark blue. They were the color of his mother's eyes, managing to be both warm and piercing at the same time. The dwarf shared a profound bond with his mother, spending the first sixteen years of his life constantly in her presence. She taught him of honor and grace, along with how to treat his subjects with respect and compassion. The queen died shortly after his sister, Dis, was born, from an infection caused by complications in her daughter's birth. Dis was actually intended to be a twin, but the much smaller boy did not live long enough to take his first breath. The family had a small ceremony for the queen and her stillborn infant, the prince that was not given a chance at life. Even though the ceremony was only open to family, the whole kingdom grieved her loss, the woman who was once so kind and compassionate towards her people. All hearts broke when she was put into the earth, and everyone expected her oldest son to live up to her legacy.

As Thorin got settled into bed, he couldn't help but think of the hobbit who, in a way, reminded him of his mother. Bilbo had given so much to people that he had never met, agreeing to help them find a home as precious to them as the Shire was to himself. 

"Mahal, protect him," Thorin pleaded, and as he fell asleep, his dreams were full of a particular hobbit, one full of bravery and hope and love. By the time Thorin woke up the next morning, he had vowed to protect Bilbo Baggins within an inch of his life, and to give it if it was asked of him. 


	3. Of Ponies and Ale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As their adventure begins, Thorin tries to make Bilbo feel more welcome in their company, but ends up messing everything up instead.

Thorin woke up to a loud clanging sound. It took him a moment to become aware of his surroundings, running his hands over the soft blankets and remembering the events of the night before. He stretched in the large bed, rolling to look out the window above the large writing desk against the wall across from the door. Day had just began to break, bathing the desk in golden light. The desk was made of sturdy oak, covered in acorn and oak leaf designs. Although the dwarves are the race known for craftsmanship, it seemed that hobbits were no less skillful. He pulled himself out of bed, stretched out his sore, travel-worn muscles and walked towards the desk.

Thorin was reminded of his age when the ache in his back refused to cease after a few steps. He remembered when he used to be fit enough to race after his nephews and nimble enough to climb the tallest trees, but his life was now half-way over. The gray streaks in his hair were becoming thicker and lighter, his hearing and eyesight not as good as they once were. The king had decided long ago that the quest to reclaim Erebor would be his last act as king. He no longer had the energy or patience to rule a kingdom; after the quest, he would retire and abdicate the throne to Fili. The young dwarf was more than able to rule and he made sure that Fili had the proper skills and upbringing to be a just ruler to Erebor.

As he ran his hand along the edge of the desk, Thorin saw how much time and dedication had been put into the desk. Engraved in the corner of a desk was and inscription. In small, curving handwriting it read: "To My Darling Bella; Not All Who Wander Are Lost". Thorin assumed that this was probably a present from Bilbo's father to his mother. It was hard for the king to take in the fact that the hobbit was willing to share his deceased parents' room with him. From what Thorin could tell, they meant a lot to the Halfling; Thorin couldn't stand to be in his mother's chamber after she died. He hadn't entered it since the night Dis was born. The only person he saw enter her rooms after her death was his father.

Thorin realized that the clanging sound was probably caused by Bombur cooking the company breakfast, and hurriedly got dressed at the urging of his protesting stomach. He gathered his hair at the nape of his neck in a quick plait, simply for functional reasons and to keep it out of his way. The dwarf stopped in front of a full-length mirror to check his appearance. Thorin put on a dark green tunic and brown trousers, lacing up his thick brown boots. He decided to forgo his rings today, settling with the silver cuff that Kili made him for his 125th birthday. It was the first thing that Kili had ever attempted to forge. The cuff was plain except for the Durin emblem; a hammer and anvil topped with a crown that had seven stars around it. It wasn't the best thing that Kili had made, paling in comparison to the works that the prince had made in the decade following. Nevertheless, it held great sentimental value to the king.

Sure enough, when he walked out of the bedroom, Thorin was greeted with the smell of cooking bacon and sausage, along with eggs and biscuits. The company was oddly quiet, evidently because of their hangover they had received the night before. The king began to appreciate the decision he made to turn in early. They were all seated around a large table, eating like ravenous animals. He turned towards the aroma of the frying breakfast, expecting to see Bombur. However, he was instead greeted by none other than the master of the house, Bilbo Baggins.

"Good morning, Thorin! It seems that your kin regrets breaking into my ale stores last night. Looks like they don't know how to hold their liquor as well as hobbits. Serves Dwalin right for trying to outdrink me," Bilbo said with a mischievous smile while stirring a pot of gravy. The smell was enough to make Thorin's mouth water.

"You won?" Thorin asked incredulously,"Dwalin has never been beaten in a drinking competition. I wish I stayed up later to watch his defeat at the hands of someone half his size,"

"We may be small, but hobbits have incredibly high metabolisms. Just as soon as we drink something, it begins to pass through our systems very quickly. Hobbits eat seven meals a day, you know,"

Thorin stared at Bilbo, wondering how such a small creature could eat so much. Not even his nephews ate that often, and he found them to be bottomless pits. No wonder the hobbit's pantries were so full, they would probably only last him a week or so at most while completely full.

Bilbo turned back to his cooking as Fili walked up to Thorin and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Uncle, Mister Bilbo is the most splendid cook ever. We should hire him as a chef once we reclaim Erebor. I don't think I'll ever be able to part with his cooking after the quest," Fili informed his uncle with a look of devastation on his face.

Thorin retrieved his own plate and sat down, watching Bilbo as he cooked. The hobbit seemed to never tire, cooking mountains upon mountains of food for the unsatisfiable company. The dwarves must have been sat at the table for hours, until Gandalf suddenly appeared at the front door, trailing a group of ponies behind him, one for each dwarf and hobbit.

"We must be headed out!" Gandalf said, "If we stay here much longer, we will not be able to reach Bree by the time the sun sets. It is imperative that we are not late,"

"But, Gandalf!" Kili protested, "We're still eating breakfast! Mister Boggins made us all a delicious meal, and it would be a shame to let it go to waste," He then took a handful of bacon and ate it all at once, licking the grease from his fingers.

Thorin honestly swore that he taught Kili manners.

"Enough, Kili. Everyone, pack your things. We will be leaving immediately. Only take what is necessary. We may be able to store some of this food in our packs if we leave enough room," Thorin said, turning towards the company.

The group soon left the Shire, leaving it's rolling hills and cheery gardens behind them. About three hours into the journey, the company came across rocky roads, and Bilbo's pony's knees buckled, toppling the hobbit off of the creature. Bilbo soon got to his feet and went to tend to the creature. 

"It seems to have broke its ankle," said Bilbo, carefully feeling at the animal's foot, "If you have some salve and bandages, I think I can help it,". Bilbo was desperate to help take care of the creature; he had seemed to have developed a bond to the pony, naming it Buttercup and petting its mane as they traveled. 

Dwalin dismounted from his pony to walk over to Bilbo, and assessed the damage. "Sorry, laddie," Dwalin said, forlornly, "She won't last long on the road. We have to put it down," 

Thorin got down from his pony as well, walking over to the injured animal. "Sorry Bilbo, you can share my pony until we reach Bree and can get another to carry you,"

Bilbo reluctantly agreed to leave the suffering animal, climbing onto Thorin's pony as the king seated himself behind him. Thorin rode out to the front of the line, hoping to prevent the hobbit hearing the dying whinnies of Buttercup. He wasn't quite sure how he would react to its death, so he instead opted to ride until the pony was out of sight while Dwalin slit its throat. 

Bilbo did not say anything for the rest of the ride to Bree. Thorin was still getting adjusted to having Bilbo seated so close to him; he was not one for physical contact with others, except for his nephews and sister, but he felt oddly comfortable with the Halfling's back against his wide chest. The hobbit's hair looked much lighter in the sunlight, his curls almost glowing. It was all the king could do to not run his fingers through it and muss it up.

When the company arrived in Bree, they purchased rooms at the Prancing Pony and decided to go get a few drinks. The dwarves started to talk about their spouses and significant others back home, thinking fondly of their loved ones. 

"Master Baggins? How come you're still a bachelor?" asked Thorin, "Have no young lads or lasses caught your eye?"

Bilbo was startled by his question. "Wha-What do you mean?"

"Well, obviously you're a bachelor, because you live alone, and you didn't say goodbye to anyone before leaving for the quest," Thorin said, reaching for another mug of ale.

"It's probably because of his lack of beard!" exclaimed Gloin, "The lad is as bare as a babe!"

The hobbit was flustered by their bombardment of questions and decided he was fed up with their behavior. Bilbo slammed his mug down on the table and stood up, looking Thorin dead in the eye with the most ferocious glare he had ever received. "It's none of your business! What is it to you whether I'm married or not?" Bilbo stormed off, obviously hurt by their questioning.

Thorin became guilt-ridden when he realized how much pain he had caused the burglar and decided to make amends. He followed Bilbo upstairs, bracing himself for the anger that the hobbit most likely had built up after the incident. 

"Master Baggins?" Thorin asked after finding Bilbo seated on a bench outside his room.

"What?" snapped Bilbo, obviously still fuming from the altercation.

"I'd like to apologize," said Thorin, too ashamed to meet Bilbo's eyes,"You're right. It is none of my business for whether you're married or not, and I'm sure you have your reasons,"

Bilbo's face softened after the king's apology. "Do you really want to know why I'm still single?" he asked, looking up at the dwarf.

"If you feel like sharing," replied Thorin, sitting next to Bilbo on the bench.

The hobbit drew in a breath, preparing to restate the truth he told himself everyday. "It's because I'm too odd for a hobbit. Too much like my mother. She used to wander the woods, going on adventures and keeping elves for company. I'm not respectable,"

Thorin could hear the pain in the burglar's voice as he told him his feelings. He reached out his hand and placed it on his, looking into the hobbit's eyes reassuringly. 

"In my opinion, most hobbits are too timid. It's your sense of adventure that makes you who you are, and if people don't respect that, then they don't deserve you. Anyone would be lucky to have you," 

In that moment, Bilbo saw hope for his future. He made a vow very similar to the one Thorin made the night before. He swore that he would protect this king, one not even of his own race, and help him get through the challenges ahead of him. He swore to be strong, if not for this man, then for himself.


	4. Wash Away Your Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two words: swimming lessons.

As the Company of Thorin Oakenshield continued on their quest to reclaim Erebor, the dwarves and hobbit had to become accustomed to traveling for long periods of time. Sure, they stopped at an inn here and there, but mostly they traveled and slept on the cold ground, sometimes spending weeks without bathing. Because of this issue, the company began to stop at rivers to bathe and have a bit of fun. Since most of the dwarves were either related to each other or were raised in the same neighborhood, there was no such thing as shame in the company. All of the dwarves were eager to stop after crossing the Hoarwell river to take a bath and have a little fun, relieving the stresses of the perils ahead.

The dwarves began to strip down at the side of the river, leaving their clothes on the bank to wash later. Thorin undressed, laying his clothes in a neat pile on the edge of the river, undoing the braids in his hair so that he could properly wash it. It had been forever since he had let his hair completely down, and it needed a thorough washing before he could continue the quest. As he undressed he felt the cool autumn air brush his skin, not cold enough to make him shiver, but it still seemed to refresh him. The king lowered himself into the water,  walking out until he was completely submerged. The water seemed to wash away all of the grime on Thorin's body, leaving him feeling clean and lighter. 

Thorin soon realized that the smallest member of the company was missing. Fearing he had drowned, he began to search for the halfling. 

"Have you seen Bilbo?" he asked Bofur. The two had seemed to grow a close bond since the company headed out, Bofur trying to humor the burglar and distract him from his worrisome tendencies. He seemed like the most likely person to ask.

"I think the lad's over there by the trees. I have no idea why he hasn't started bathing yet, if he waits much longer it'll be too dark to see!" Bofur said, gesturing towards the tree line. 

Thorin began wading towards the shore, where Bilbo was seated on a large rock, puffing on his tobacco pipe and blowing smoke rings, a habit that Thorin realized the hobbit took on when he was nervous or worried.

"Come on, Bilbo, what's the matter? Why don't you come join us?" Thorin asked in a playful tone.

"No, thank you!" Bilbo said,"I'm enjoying myself over here, thank you very much!"

Thorin couldn't see the halfling's face, but he could tell that he was scowling. He started walking out of the water,  standing behind Bilbo.

"What's the matter?" Thorin persisted, wringing out his long wavy hair.

"It's just not very hobbit-y," Bilbo replied, matter-of-factly.

"What isn't?" the king asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You dwarves,  running around naked, acting like hooligans, that's what! It makes no sense to run around naked in front of strangers. No sense of dignity,"

Thorin suddenly became aware of his nakedness."You probably wouldn't want to turn around now, then," Thorin said with a sheepish smile.

Bilbo, confused, started to turn his head, and upon realizing that Thorin was fully naked,  swiftly turned his head back and turned bright red.

The king quickly covered his groin with his hands. "Well, Mr. Hobbit,  I thought we were more than strangers. There's no harm in a little nakedness between friends, right?" Thorin asked with a smile. 

"It's not just that," Bilbo said with a sigh.

"Oh?" Thorin asked.

"I-I don't know how to swim," Bilbo said, lowering his head. "I know it's embarrassing to be this old and not know how, but hobbits don't like water much. We sink like rocks,"

"I can teach you, if you want," Thorin said with a bright smile,"And if it makes you feel better, we can swim in our undergarments,"

"Really?" Bilbo asked raising his head.

"Sure! Just let me put on some underwear," Thorin ran along shore and grabbed his linen shorts, returning to the bank. "You can turn around, Bilbo," 

Bilbo began undressing and both of them travelled to one of the shallower spots in the river. Thorin began by teaching Bilbo some of the strokes, the hobbit soon catching on to the general concept of swimming. By the end of the evening, Bilbo was swimming circles around Thorin, the dwarf only having to "save" him three times. 

"How are you such a good swimming teacher?" asked Bilbo, drying himself off on the shore.

"Who do you think was in charge of keeping Kili and Fili alive in the rivers in the Blue Mountains?" Thorin joked, pulling on his trousers.

It soon became a regular occurrence for Thorin to take Bilbo aside along the trip when they stopped at a river or stream. They continued to work on his strokes, long after Bilbo surpassed the dwarf's level of skill. 

Thorin wouldn't let the others know this, but he began to look forward to their swimming lessons whenever he spotted a stream nearby, eager to spend time with the burglar. 


End file.
